


Matters into her own hands

by mistressterably



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/pseuds/mistressterably
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filling an anon tumblr prompt: <br/>TTOI FIC. Sam gets frustrated with Malcolm, she turns dominate on Malcolm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Malcolm returned to the office, the new ulcer medication his GP had prescribed to him in his jacket pocket. Another appointment just to be browbeaten over not sleeping, not eating and stressing out. Another appointment where he reminded the GP exactly what he did for a job. Now he had a one month supply of stomach pills to try and ease the pain he’d been feeling lately. At least the pills are twice a day he thought. He could take them before and after Sam was in the office. Last thing he needed was her cottoning on to his condition. He loved her to bits but did not want to be mothered.

Opening up his desk drawer he dropped the prescription bottle in it and shut it. One thing he had ignored was the doctor’s warning about the side effects. He took the drugs as directed but was too caught up in his work to really pay attention to the fact that he had a rash forming on his neck thanks to the drugs. It was Sam who brought it to his attention.

‘What have you been up to, Malcolm!’ Sam asked, teasing at first thinking the redness just about his collar was him trying to hide a hickey. 

‘What are you on about, Sam?’ Malcolm sounded testy. 

‘Been enjoying yourself.’ She pointed to his neck. ‘About time too. You spend far too much time on your own.’

‘I’ve not been ‘enjoying’ anyone’s company, Sam. What makes you even think that!’ Malcolm scoffed at the idea. ‘I don’t have time to be pandering to some pointless bitch whining to be taken out to dinner or the show when I’m supposed to be whipping this marzipan dildo ministers into some sort of publicly palatable talking heads!’

‘Then why do you have a hickey on your neck?’

‘What?!’ Malcolm dropped his pen and rubbed at his neck. It had been sore that morning but he figured he’d just nicked himself shaving. Getting up, Malcolm went to the mirror by the wardrobe in his office. ‘Fucking hell.’ He muttered as he loosened his tie and now saw the large red rash that had started to creep up his neck but was over his shoulder. ‘Goddamn fucking GP.’   
‘What’s up Malcolm?’ Sam was watching him closely. ‘I thought you said you had got a clean bill of health from the GP the other day.’

‘I did….’ Malcolm began evasively. ‘OW!’

Sam swatted him on the arm. ‘Liar! You tell me what’s wrong.’

‘Nothing, Sam. Don’t worry. It’s just temporary.’ Malcolm started to straighten his tie but Sam stopped him. ‘Oh stop it, Sam.’ He pushed her hands away. ‘I’ll be fine. It’s just a fucking ulcer. I’m on some strong antacids for a month.’

‘That are causing a rash on your shoulder and neck.’ Sam was tugging on his shirt to undo the buttons to get a better idea of how far the rash had gone. 

‘I said to fucking stop, Sam.’ Malcolm pulled roughly away from Sam before she could unbutton more than one button of his shirt. ‘You’re not my goddamn mother.’

‘No, I’m your PA who gives a damn about you!’ Sam snapped back at him, tired of his pigheadedness. ‘If you have an ulcer you need to relax more than you need drugs!’

‘Explain that to the big man, Sam!’ Malcolm raised his voice. ‘I’ve got a fucking job to do and the GP gave me something to take so I could keep on working. That’s all you need to fucking know.’

‘Oh you!’ Sam grabbed him by the shirt and started to shake him as to shake some sense into him. ‘If you don’t take care of yourself you’re going to work yourself into an early grave!’

‘So what!’ Malcolm shot back. 

‘So what?’ Sam looked at him in shock. ‘Maybe because there are people around you who’d like to see you stay alive!’

‘Fuck them. There’s more people in line to dance on my grave. Now, I’ve got work to fucking do!’ Malcolm tried to turn away from her but found her hand on his arm, stopping him. ‘Sam, let me go!’

‘No.’ Sam told him. ‘You aren’t working any more today.’

‘As if you can stop me.’ Malcolm shot a look at her, dismissing the idea. 

‘Watch me.’ Sam told him and before he could do anything, she was leading him to his desk and making him sit down. She picked up the phone and, with her hand on his chest to hold him there, was calling the Prime Minister. Malcolm tried to grab the phone from her but she stopped him. ‘Yes, Prime Minister. I’m afraid Malcolm’s going to need a few days off. He’s got an ulcer and the drugs he’s on aren’t agreeing with him. Frankly, sir, he looks like he’s about to become a blow up tomato.’

‘Sam, that’s taking things a bit far!’ Malcolm scowled at her but she just glared right back at him.

‘No, that’s you pushing yourself to do more than you ought to every damn day! The government won’t fall overnight if you take the day off. Which is what you are going to do as of now.’

‘Who says?’ Malcolm’s back was up now, unused to being told what to do.

‘I say.’ Sam said. She was grabbing his coat and handing it to him. ‘Where are they?’

‘Where are what?’ He dug his heels in, not putting his coat on yet.

‘The pills. Surely the GP would have prescribed you something for relief if you’ve got an ulcer.’

‘I didn’t get anything of the sort.’ He lied.

‘Bull-crap. I’ve been your PA for a long time now, Malcolm. You can fool a lot of others but you’re not fooling me. Where are they?’ Not speaking, Malcolm gave himself away by flicking a glance at his desk drawer. ‘Thank you.’ Sam said evenly, her hand opening the drawer and spotting the pill bottle. Grabbing it, ‘Coat. On. Now.’

‘Sam, now you’re just pushing your luck.’ Malcolm sat up and made to take the pill bottle from her. 

‘And you’re pushing your health. Get your coat on or I’m picking up the phone again and telling the PM that you’re going on a leave of absence for a month and not just for a few days to recover from your ulcer.’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’ Malcolm went white at the thought of being out of the loop that long.

‘Want to test me?’ Sam went to pick up the phone again. 

‘No!’ Malcolm shot forward and grabbed the handset away from her. ‘Fine, I’ll go home for the day. This will clear up overnight. I’m sure.’ He was already planning on getting home to appease her and then calling people to get things done. It may not be as effective as in person but he could manage.

‘No, not just for the day. A few days. Until I know you’re improving.’

‘Sam, you’re over-reacting.’ Malcolm protested.

‘No, you’re just stubborn. Get your coat on and stop arguing.’

Grumbling, Malcolm got up and pulled his coat on. He held out his hand for his pill bottle but Sam didn’t relinquish it but walked behind him to ensure he left the office. Sam, instead of giving him his pills was grabbing her coat and bag. ‘What the fuck are you doing, Sam?’

‘Escorting you home.’ Sam answered him and then slipped her arm on his. ‘Off we go.’

‘Sam?’ Malcolm looked at her oddly.

‘I know you too well, Malcolm. I’m not letting you out of my sight for the next few days until I know you’re improved.’ Malcolm couldn’t respond. ‘It’s not your time yet, Malcolm. You’ve got a lot more to give to the government and the country. You can’t do that from the grave. So, stop arguing and let’s get you home. Only when I know you’re not misbehaving and working from home, then I’ll let you be.’

‘Sam, are you trying to annoy me on purpose?’ 

‘No, I”m trying to show you I care.’ Sam smiled at him sweetly and he gave in completely.


	2. Happily Defeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm is stubborn but it's pointless when he's up against Sam.

‘You stubborn old man!’ Sam was grabbing Malcolm’s mobile out of his hands. ‘I said, NO WORK!’

‘I was just fucking checking my emails! I wasn’t answering any of them!’ Malcolm shot back at Sam. ‘Fucking fuck me, Sam, I can’t just sit around and let things go to hell back at Number 10.’

‘It’s been five hours, Malcolm. The government won’t crumble in five hours.’ Sam was popping open the back of the mobile and slipping the sim card out of it. Once it was out, she put the back on again and handed the useless mobile back to Malcolm. The sim card was safely placed in her bag. ‘Now, where’s the laptop you were issued.’

‘You are not getting the laptop!’ Malcolm barked at her but she was bulling her way past him in the sitting room to the back room she knew that he used as an office. The laptop rested on the worktop and she unplugged it from the power outlet. ‘Sam, you’re being fucking ridiculous now. You can’t take the laptop.’

‘If you give me any grief I’m calling the GP and you know that I will be able to get him to sign off on an extended leave until your ulcer heals up entirely.’

‘Don’t you fucking dare!’ Malcolm waved his finger at her, threatening her. 

‘Watch me, Malcolm.’ Sam held the laptop between them in her hands, tempting him to take it back but as soon as his fingers drifted toward it to grab it back Sam’s eyes went steely. He froze. ‘Well?” Sam asked him. 

‘Damn you.’ He grumbled and then just watched her place the laptop under her bag. He sighed. Sam may as well have placed his laptop and sim card in Fort fucking Knox. With his fingers on his cheeks, he ran them down over his face and neck before he gave up for the moment. ‘Fine. You fucking win for now.’

Smiling, Sam answered him, ‘Of course I win, Malcolm. Now, why don’t you go and have a long hot bath while I talk to your GP and find out what we can do about those side effects.’

‘I’m not going to fucking have a bath and you can just fucking go home now. Take my laptop with you if that makes you feel better. I can manage on my own.’

‘Oh, Malcolm. Do you really think that I’m going to trust you to relax on your own?’ She was helping him take off his tie despite his protests. ‘Of course I don’t, mister. I’ve known you for years.’

‘Sam, stop!’ He fought back but couldn’t really do anything. Not against Sam. Sam was his rock at the office. His oasis in the shit storm. But he had to draw the line when she was beginning to strip his shirt off. ‘Enough! I get your point! You’re not going to strip me naked in my sitting room!’  
‘Then go and have a hot bath.’ Sam told him. ‘And I’m calling the GP, that rash is growing.’

‘Yes, Sam. I’m off for a bath.’ Malcolm gave in and headed up the stairs to the bathroom. He could hear her down the stairs asking to speak to his GP. In his bedroom, he stripped out of his suit and grabbed his bathrobe. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom and had started the hot water running that he saw the extent of the rash on his upper body and neck. ‘Sweet fucking christ.’ He ran his fingers over the patch of redness. He could feel the heat from his skin but it wasn’t sore. With a sigh, he turned the hot water off and was soon soaking in the tub. 

While laying in the tub, Malcolm found himself relaxing a little but the stomach pain that had prompted him to finally go to his GP was still there. Not as bad but still there. He knew he should eat but the pain drove his hunger away. Looking down at his own body, he noted that he was thinner than he used to be. Running his hand down over his chest and stomach, Malcolm grimaced as another spike of pain hit him. ‘Fuck.’ He hissed. Dragging himself out of the tub, he stood over the sink, dripping wet, with an arm around his stomach as a wave of nausea doubled him over. A moment later, he was vomiting into the sink. Afterwards, for the moment anyway, the pain subsided and Malcolm cleaned out the sink and wiped himself off. 

Bathrobe tied tight around him, Malcolm headed down stairs to get himself a cup of tea. He was greeted by Sam instead. ‘You can go home, Sam. I’ll be fine on my own. What the fuck is this?’ Malcolm looked at the plate she was setting on the table. 

‘Your lunch.’ Sam was setting a cup of tea beside it. ‘The GP recommended a diet for you. Whole grain bread with lean meats. Best I could come up with what you have in your fridge was a chicken sandwich. The tea is decaf. All that caffeine you’ve been drinking is probably one of the reasons you’re in a bad way right now.’

‘Oh, fuck that!’ Malcolm scowled. ‘I want a proper cup of tea. I’m not hungry.’

‘You need to eat. I heard you, you know.’ Sam warned him. 

‘Heard what?’ Malcolm scowled more darkly at her.

‘You were throwing up, weren’t you?’ She dared him to lie and the look she got from him confirmed what she heard. ‘Sit down and eat, Malcolm, it’ll help you feel better. Once you’ve eaten, I’ll be off to the pharmacist to get you an allergy med to counter the rash. You have been taking the other prescription on time?’

‘Yes.’ Malcolm grumbled as he picked at the plain sandwich Sam had made for him. Just to be annoying, he peeled the crust off the bread and left it on the plate as he began to eat. The tea she had made was black, no milk and no sugar. He made a face at the bitter taste of it.

‘Would you prefer water?’ Sam asked and then laughed at the look he shot her. ‘Drink the tea, Malcolm.’ Sam watched over him as he ate all the sandwich (minus the crusts) and drank the tea. Embarrassingly, he belched loudly as he finished and went beet red. Sam said nothing but just took the dirty dishes away to place them in his dishwasher. ‘Okay, Malcolm. you put your feet up and relax. I’ll be back with the allergy medication and some groceries for you.’

‘Sam, stop this. Just go home now. I don’t need to be mothered.’

‘No, you don’t you just need to be told what to do or else you’ll find yourself in worse shape than you are now.’ Sam put her arms around him as he sat at the table. ‘You may be fine with wrecking yourself Malcolm but I’m not. Now, you relax and I’ll be back soon.’

Malcolm watched her leave, thinking that as soon as she was gone he could fire up his laptop and get some emails done but she took it with her. Getting up, he sat in front of the television and put on the news. One brief news clip about one of their ministers had him grabbing his home phone and ringing up Jamie. He was in full rant when Sam returned to his house, letting herself in. 

‘MALCOLM!’ Sam raised her voice at the sight of him on his sofa, yelling into the phone at the minister. It was enough to shock him into silence. He recovered and made a last comment to the minister before hanging up. ‘You are supposed to be relaxing. Stress is not going to help you recover. Do you want to be dealing with stomach pain for the rest of your life?’

‘That’s not going to happen, Sam. Take it easy.’ Malcolm got up from the sofa. ‘You’re fucking over-reacting. It’s a bad upset stomach, the drugs will clear it up and I’ll be back at it in a day or two.’ 

Frustrated by his obstinacy, Sam threw the pill bottle at him and dropped the bag of groceries on the floor. ‘Fine, suffer you old fool!’ She turned and left him there alone. Malcolm watched her leave at first he grinned, having won again but then he picked up the bottle of drugs and read the directions. Opening it, he popped the two pills he was supposed to and swallowed without any water. When he started to put the groceries away, Malcolm found himself regretting what he had done, pushing Sam to leave him alone.

Malcolm sat at his kitchen table, a fresh cup of black decaf tea in front of him. He wasn’t used to this doing nothing. Bored, he got up and turned the television on to watch the latest news programs. It didn’t take long before he was falling asleep from the stress of the day and the new allergy medications. He didn’t wake up until his phone rang, jarring him awake. Ignoring it, he made his way to the washroom instead. Emerging, the phone was still ringing so he finally answered it.

‘Malcolm?’ Sam’s voice was a welcome sound to Malcolm.

‘Sam!’ His joy at hearing her voice was evident but he quickly regained his normal gruff tone. ‘Checking up on me again?’

‘Yes, how do you feel?’

‘Tired. Stomach still turns over but I think the rash is fading.’

‘I’d like to come over and make you dinner.’ Sam told him, her concern obvious.

‘I’m not hungry, Sam. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.’ Malcolm was about to hang up when Sam’s next words caught him off guard.

‘You’re not to go in for the rest of the week Malcolm. PM says so.’

‘Was this your doing?” Malcolm could feel his anger rising.

‘No, your GP called the PM. I honestly didn’t mean for that to happen, Malcolm. I just wanted you to take tomorrow off only and let the drugs settle for you.’

‘FUCK FUCK FUCK!’ Malcolm slammed the phone down. Storming into his sitting room, he sat on the sofa with his hands over his face. Grabbing one of the cushions he threw it across the room and knocking a painting off the wall. ‘FUCK!’ He yelled once more. He was stuck. If he showed up at the office the PM would likely just have security (or worse Sam!) escort him home again. Fine, he thought, if they’re going to keep me from the office he’ll just work everything through Jamie. He picked up his phone and was dialing Jamie. 

Back in his element, Malcolm was soon relocated to his office desk and going over the following day’s media events with Jamie. He got so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t eat and he didn’t remember to take his medications either. By the time he’d gone over everything with Jamie he was exhausted again and just made his way to his sofa to lie down. 

In the morning, Sam arrived at his door and let herself in. She didn’t trust him and she had challenged Jamie once he’d got into the office as to whether he had spoken to Malcolm and he’d confessed to talking to Malcolm about the day’s work. She had stern words for Jamie, cowing him into promising to not talk to Malcolm about work for the remainder of the week. A further call to the PM and Sam was leaving the office. 

Now, she stood there looking down on her boss and smiling sadly. He was sprawled there, still in his bathrobe, looking pale and gaunt. He was still tensed up even in his sleep. Sam knew she’d made the right call in bringing a small bag with a few changes of clothes with her. Malcolm didn’t stir at all as she busied herself in the kitchen to fix him tea and a light breakfast. She brought it to the sitting room and sat on the coffee table. ‘Malcolm?’ She whispered softly hoping to wake him with just her voice but it took her nudging his arm to rouse him. ‘Morning.’

‘Sam? What the fuck?’ He looked around blearily, trying to place himself. 

‘Here, tea and some toast.’ 

‘Where? You should be at work.’ 

‘I am.’

‘But you’re here?’

‘You are my work, Malcolm. If you’re off there’s not much for me to do at the office.’ She handed him the tea and he took it, sitting up. ‘So, I’m here to make sure you don’t work this week and focus on getting better.’

‘My fucking babysitter.’ Malcolm snorted at the idea but drank the tea she gave him. He tried to avoid the toast but she wouldn’t let him get out of it. As soon as the food hit his stomach, he felt ill at first and thought he would be racing to the washroom to throw up but in the end just belched loudly. 

‘I think some more tea is in order.’ Sam got up and was getting him another cup. When she returned with a fresh cup he pointed at the bag she had left at the front hall. ‘Overnight bag. I’m staying here until Sunday at least. I’m to report to the PM how you’re doing by then.’

‘The PM?’ Malcolm grunted. ‘Thought you were my PA, now you’re his?’

‘No, I’m your PA and always will be, Malcolm. But I agreed with the PM when he wanted to make sure you got better. I don’t mind staying over to see that you take your pills and eat regularly.’

‘Fuck.’ He slumped back and rubbed his eyes. ‘I’ll eat. I’ll take the pills. You don’t have to stay here, Sam. Take the time to go do what you want. An extra holiday for you. I’ll manage on my own.’

‘That’s what you said yesterday. Then you turned around and went to work with Jamie over the phone.’ Sam reminded him. ‘Jamie’s been told off now. So you won’t be able to call him.’

Malcolm rolled his eyes. ‘Covering all the fucking bases aren’t you?’

‘The PM learned about your conversation from Jamie. I didn’t know about until the PM told me to watch you for the rest of the week.’ 

‘So, you’re here for the week? Staying over?’

‘yes, but don’t worry, I’m fine with the sofa.’

‘Fuck no, I’ve got a spare room you can sleep in.’ Sighing in defeat, Malcolm looked at Sam. ‘I’ll try to not belch too loudly.’

‘As long as you take your pills and eat what I make you, we’ll get along fine, Malcolm.’ Sam smiled.


End file.
